When I think back to Christmas as a little girl, the first thing I remember is the lights, how they seemed to be magical. It was as if a different world had come to life for the season and everything glittered and sparkled. I remember the lights more than I remember any presents or anything else. The lights on main street in Hawthorne, the lights on our Christmas tree, the lights dad put on the house. (Ours were “warm and rich” colored we would always say. We didn’t have the ones that blinked). I remember the schmmozy American Christmas songs that my mom hated, playing everywhere. At home we only had classical Christmas music playing; Bachs Weinachtsoratorium or Handel’s Messiah. I remember my mom, how beautiful she was. I never thought about my mom without thinking about how pretty she was. I loved her more than my little heart could bear at times. Somehow, even though I was very small, my mom seemed like a very precious and fragile creature to me. Like a small, delicate bird.
My mom could sing. She sang like an angel. I mean it. If you heard an angel sing, it would sound like my mom did. She would practice her singing at the piano and I would watch and listen, fully amazed. How anyone could be so pretty and sound so beautiful was a wonder to me. I was so proud of her. At Christmas she would sing the german version of “He will lead his flock” from Handel’s Messiah at church. I would sit in the congregation waiting with anticipation to hear my mom sing. I will always remember sitting in the church pew with big wet tears streaming down my cheeks as she sang that beautiful melody. I was so moved at the sound of my mother’s sweet and angelic voice.
Today when I hear that song, I’m still moved to the point of tears. Tears of sorrow, as I think back on the innocence of those days that are now gone, and tears of joy as I can still hear her sweet, beautiful voice and remember the pride I felt as she stood at the front of the church singing at Christmas. And my heart still aches as though it cannot contain the love I feel.
Merry Christmas Mom